


Wounds That Heal and Cracks That Fix

by oneforeveryday



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Ambassador Sokka (Avatar), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fake Character Death, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), M/M, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:54:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25252696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforeveryday/pseuds/oneforeveryday
Summary: The Firelord dies on a quiet, cloudless night.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 113
Kudos: 308





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> (The tile is a lyric from the song Politik by Coldplay)
> 
> NOT BETA READ

The Firelord dies on a quiet, cloudless night. The people of Caldera are drawn out from their homes to gather near the palace in confusion, coaxed by the sight of uncontained flames and the smell of the thick, black smoke that settles heavily in the air and in their lungs. 

Inside the palace, a servant nurses a burnt hand close to her heart. She yearns for a basin of cool water or some salve to soothe the sting she hadn’t remembered feeling during the commotion, the beginnings of pain ignored as she reeled back from the hot handle of the fire lord's chamber and screamed for help. 

Her throat is sore too, she realizes. 

The guards had answered her panicked cries, and they had pushed her to the side as they squared their bodies to ram into the boiling hot door, locked from the inside. Only a lone guard who saw the flames from his position in the watchtowers noticed her. He had collapsed on his knees after his sprint, running to send a warning he knew was too late. He made heartbreaking eye contact with her, for he already knew the Firelord’s fate from his outside view. When they finally did smother the fire, the guards found no sign of struggle. They found no signs of anything, the entire room black and scorched. The Firelord himself is now reduced to only charred bones. A death and a funeral in one. 

In the hours after, once it’s confirmed that Zuko was inside his chambers during the accident, the palace cries. The guards and Kyoshi Warriors curse him in their grief, for he had spent the recent years with no assassination attempts shrugging off the watchful eyes of his protectors, insisting he would be fine and could handle himself.

It had only been three weeks since he’d gotten them to patrol at the end of the hall instead of outside his chambers. 

Some servants pray and hold vigils to guide their lord’s spirit while others panic and weep. In the morning, when the vibrant crimson of Caldera is replaced with the mourning white, the city cries too.

Sokka, who was working as the Southern Water Tribe ambassador in a late meeting, was notified of the Firelord’s death as such. The guard had announced it to the council room using all the proper formalities despite his obvious distress, like it was a morning announcement instead of Sokka’s world falling apart. The information didn’t register with him until he encountered Suki. She had collapsed into his arms, her Kyoshi makeup streaked with tears, and with her words made Sokka break too.

“I’m so sorry Sokka, he’s dead. Zuko’s dead.”

\---

Sokka leaves Caldera a week after his husband dies. His father comes and decides for him. As chief of the Southern Water Tribe, he had been sailing around the world to strengthen the tribe’s relationship with other nations and to promote trade. The trip wasn’t supposed to last more than a month and Hakoda’s presence was more than sufficient to flatter the many mayors and officials he was to meet with, but he insists that he needs his son’s worldly experience from his travels with the Avatar as a teenager. Sokka sees right through it, but he’s not inclined to argue. Everything he loves about the Fire Nation he learned to love because of Zuko, and now all those things just serve to remind Sokka again that he’s no longer here.

He tells himself that he isn’t running away like his father did, leaving two children alone to raise themselves parentless and using the war as an excuse. Sokka and Zuko had no children. 

A week ago he could have said  _ yet.  _ A week ago he could imagine a daughter or a son, who looked like Zuko but was wholly theirs playing in the courtyard and running through the palace halls.

Every corner of the palace brings back memories of a past life he will never have again and hushed whispers of a future that will never be. He needs to  _ leave.  _ He’s not like his father, though he forgave him long ago, he’s not abandoning anyone.

He’s not abandoning Iroh, who’s quiet life in Ba Sing Se has been shattered with the weight of his newly appointed role of Firelord and losing a second son. He’s not abandoning Mai with her quiet tears that match Ty-Lee’s open sobs. Or Suki, who’s racked with misplaced guilt over the death of the man she swore to guard with her life and a beloved friend.

And he’s not abandoning Azula. He could never bring himself to care for her, but she mattered to Zuko, so she mattered to him. He shrugs off the sense of responsibility he feels as he passes that building that holds her when he departs. It’s a duty that comes from being a brother himself and loving everything that Zuko loved but ignored because Zuko’s  _ dead  _ and that seems to overpower everything else.

So Sokka leaves and Azula remains confined in the walls of her hospital room, unaware that the only person who truly fought for her is gone.

\---

It’s three months later in an almost desolate Earth Kingdom trading village when Sokka feels a sense of purpose again. 

He and his father were joined by Aang and Katara a month back, who had paused their restoration of the Air Temples to support Sokka. Toph had come more recently, giving the excuse that she had gotten bored with her metal bending academy and nothing else. 

The reunion and their traveling lifestyle remind him so much of the year after they met Aang, and Zuko and Suki’s absence makes him ache. He’s been neglecting to respond to her many concerned letters asking him to come back to the Fire Nation and Caldera City. It’s not a rejection of her or any of the people he left behind, but he’s been pushing away anything that has to do with the gaping hole Zuko left with him. Katara’s been urging Sokka to talk about him, she thinks remembering and talking about a person keeps the person alive and lets you heal, but that’s never been the way Sokka deals with loss. 

He knows it’s not the healthiest, but he prefers to shove the people he's lost and the emotions he feels at the thought of them into the very back of his mind, only speaking of them when necessary. It works for him most of the time, not minding the all-consuming pain he endures when the dam occasionally breaks. He did it with his mother, and with Yue, but they've so long since past that he can think of his fuzzy memories of his mother’s warm embrace and gaze at the full moon with only a sting of pain and a melancholy smile. 

He can’t even imagine what it will be like when he lets himself properly grieve Zuko. Sokka felt like he was watching himself from the outside for the whole awful week after, and he couldn't tell you a word of his speech at Zuko’s funeral, only the flickering of flames that burned a casket with no body. Since then he's been shrouded in a state of numbness, one he knows worries and confuses all of his current companions except for his dad. Only he can comprehend what losing the type of person Zuko was to him and in turn, Sokka thinks he finally understands why Hakoda fled to the navy all those years ago.

They’re in the village’s tiny market all together on what started as an excursion for food and supplies and ended up as another one of the many vigilante missions that come with traveling alongside the Avatar. Toph had sensed the otherwise secluded back network of the market and Aang righteously decided to make sure there was nothing too illegal going on back there. The Fire Nation had previously occupied the town during the war, and Sokka knows from experience that they’re semi-likely to find a faction of Ozai loyalists simmering in one of these off-the-grid villages. 

Toph’s feet lead them to a stingy black market that is selling banned plants and some stolen goods, but it seems insignificant enough that Sokka will settle for giving them a scare using a quick display of the many weapons and bending abilities the group carries. While they wordlessly prepare to do just that, he peeks around an old guy's stand who advertised for his treasures in a hushed, lewd voice. Currently, the stand owner pays him no mind, he’s trying to sell a ruby bracelet to an unconvinced Earth Kingdom woman, and Sokka picks up a wooden box that stands out amongst the over the top memorabilia. He opens the box, and he almost passes out from how fast his heart drops in his chest.

Inside are two items. A betrothal necklace on a red ribbon, with the same stone Sokka carved himself and had seen every day for three years, and the Firelord’s hairpiece. 

They sit on the box’s cloth lining, staggeringly intact for two objects that burned along with Zuko months ago.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of Suicide, and a character feeling guilt over a suicide 
> 
> I also added in some bits of culture that aren't canon but are a part of the story.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented and gave kudos on my last post!!

Hakoda watches Sokka with a concerned eye. His son cradles the Firelord’s hairpiece with the utmost of care and delicately folds it into a piece of cloth to place it deep in his satchel. He takes more time with Zuko’s necklace, considering it with nimble fingers. Hakoda had pried those same fingers off the stand owner’s throat only minutes before, who is currently under Katara’s guard. She’s scrutinizing him with her usual glare, but he doesn’t miss the worried glances she’s giving her brother, regarding him with the same apprehension he sees when Aang’s eyes flicker a glowing white. 

It’s frightening to see someone you love so violent, but Hakoda is shaken for other reasons. Sokka is standing with his shoulders hunched and looks so small despite his stature, curling his body around his late husband’s betrothal necklace like it’s his actual remains. The scene reminds him so much of a young Katara, crumpled on the floor of their igloo with the last remnants of her mother clenched in her tiny palms. He can also imagine that he must have looked similar when he had handled Kya’s necklace on that dreadful day, overwhelmed by grief. 

It’s a pain he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy.

“I swear on it! I knew the gold and design were Fire Nation, but how was I supposed to know it was the Firelord’s hairpiece? I’ve never seen it! I’ve never even been to the Fire Nation!”

The stand owner trembles, nursing his raw neck gingerly. Katara’s gaze doesn’t falter. 

“The men I bought them from were Fire Nation though. Traveling in the Earth Kingdom, but Fire Nation.”

Katara moves forward, hands moving towards her water satchel preemptively. “How do you know? What did their robes look like? Were they soldiers? Tell me  _ everything  _ you know.”

“No!” The stand owner gulps and his eyes flitter down nervously at the waterbender’s new stance. “No. They were wearing brown robes, but they had the look; amber eyes, pale skin? A couple might have been firebenders.”

He says the last word with a grimace, which doesn’t help his case. It’s not uncommon for the older people of the other nations to still hold a similar attitude despite Zuko’s many valiant efforts, but no one in their party has the patience for it. 

“Is there anything else you noticed?  _ Names  _ maybe?”

“I don’t remember!” 

Katara shifts closer, pulling tendrils of water into her control. “General! They called their leader General!” 

\---

Sokka’s head whips up violently, staring straight at the stand owner. It’s always been a possibility with Zuko’s status, but the confirmation of foul play, of  _ murder  _ , makes Sokka ignite. He almost moves again to strangle the man, but the instant, all-consuming rage he feels is soon replaced by utter helplessness. Zuko had replaced  _ dozens  _ of councilmen and generals who were adamant about their loyalty to Ozai in the fragile years right after the war. As much as he wants to do on to the nameless general a thousand times worse than what he did to Zuko, he has no idea who he is or where he might be. 

Sokka also feels immense relief despite the revelation. Publicly, the Firelord’s death was an accident. A master firebender dying from a stray flame caught on his robes or the silk of their bed. It was questionable, but it eased the people’s minds. Inside the palace walls, it seemed everyone reached a different solemn conclusion, though no one said it out loud. It wasn’t the first to happen in the long line of Firelords before Zuko, fathers had taken their own lives for their sons long ago when it was traditional for the heir to do so when they came of age. Even after that practice faded out it wasn't unheard of, either for political reasons or for something else, but it was taboo to speak about. But the silent question still remained, pounding in the heads of everyone close to Zuko.

_ Why? _

Sokka had analyzed every interaction they had leading up to it, every smile he remembered, searching for a sign of what Zuko was planning. Was there a deeper meaning in the time he had laid his head on Sokka’s shoulder after a long day?  _ I’m tired  _ , he had said, and Sokka didn’t think anything of until after, wondering if Zuko had been trying to tell him something, trying to ask for help. He had been tearing himself apart, thinking like this, of what he could have done to make Zuko stay. Realizing that he failed to protect him from some sinister outside force instead of missing signs that he was crumbling in front of him is somehow easier to bear.

At the very least all his memories with Zuko are no longer tainted with doubt, and he almost curses himself for letting himself entertain that idea in the first place. Even with their duties and the shadows of the war and their childhoods that would never quite leave them, they had been so  _ happy  _ . 

“Did they say where they were heading?” Aang asks warily from his place behind Katara.

The stand owner is still on edge, fumbling over his words as he speaks. “Ba-Sing-Se, probably. I met them in a town outside Omashu and they were going North.”

“It’s okay, we’re after those guys, not you. We won’t hurt you.” Aang glances at Sokka pointedly, but with no judgment.

“Speak for yourself twinkle toes. This guy’s not telling us something.”

It’s the first time Toph has said anything since Sokka’s outburst drew them around the stand. 

“I swear I don’t know anything! Please!”

“Fess up! I can feel you lying!”

Sokka tenses and tightens his hold on Zuko’s necklace, eyes still fixed on the stand owner as he gulps. 

“Okay! They had a  _ combatant  _ with them.” Only his dad seems to register the stand owner’s words, the rest of the group's blank faces making the stand owner elaborate. “They’re a type of soldier the Fire Nation used during war times. The ones in all black?” 

Katara opens her mouth to interrogate further, but Hakoda hushes her with a glance, looking like he got everything he needed from the conversation.

They leave without another word. Sokka puts the necklace in his pocket as they go, a familiar weight from when he carried it around with him before he proposed four years ago. The copper rings he and Zuko wore on their hands for the duration of their marriage, a Fire Nation custom, hang light on a chain around his neck. Zuko was getting his cleaned the day he died, and it’s one of the only items he had left of him that wasn’t burned or heat warped and charred beyond recognition.  _ Supposedly  _ . He sends a silent thank you to Yue and the spirits for allowing the lost objects to end up with Sokka and not some random traveler. 

Hakoda explains once everyone is seated on Appa’s saddle, all trusting the bison to guide himself to a suitable rest area when he tires.

"A combatant is what the Fire Nation called a special type of soldier they used during the 100-year war. They were more for assassinations and one on one fights rather than the front lines. More covert issues. I’ve never seen one, and neither has anyone in my fleet. They were only really used in the beginning, before any of our times.” 

His father pauses.

“Water Tribe lore speculates that combatants were corpses possessed by the Firelord in himself. They were almost perfect fighters, moving in and out silently without speaking a single word.”

“Suki mentioned something like that to me once. On Kyoshi, they tell stories about black figures that would come and kill you in the middle of the night. They were said to be spirits that took the Fire Nation’s side in the war.” Katara adds. Toph responds with a huff.

“Spirits don’t take sides! I’m sure they’re just soldiers Sozin used to take out rebels back before he convinced everyone of his stupid war motive. That guy probably just saw a Fire Nation man in all black and got worked up for nothing. Let’s all just forget about it.” 

The rest of the group seems satisfied with this, but something nags at Sokka. 

“We have to go after those men. If they went for Zuko, who says they won’t kill Iroh?” 

Aside from his personal relationship with his husband’s uncle, Sokka feels a sudden urge to defend the Fire Nation. If that general and his men kill Iroh the throne will go to Azula. He knows she’s made progress, but nowhere near enough to be trusted with that position. All of Zuko’s work could be destroyed or undone, either by Azula herself or by someone taking advantage of her unstable state. He had been there by his side while he painstakingly undid the damage his forefathers committed. It would never be totally reversed, at least not in his lifetime, but the improvements Zuko made were immense. Enough to get him killed.

Everyone detects the severity of Sokka’s tone and a silent agreement is made. Aang gets up from the saddle, sitting down on Appa’s head and steering him towards Ba-Sing-Se.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long. 
> 
> If you've read the first two chapters already I did edit them slightly, but the plot and the majority of the text is still the same.

“Here’s your tea.” 

Jin says it with a smile, but it’s strained, either from the solemn mood at the table or the stress of her recent ownership of the Jasmine Dragon, Katara doesn’t know. 

“Thanks, Jin.” Katara gives the other woman her own small smile and lets go of Aang’s hand to take a sip. It remains quiet for a moment, but she can see Hakoda shift awkwardly and she knows he’s about to attempt to fill the silence with small talk. 

“Ba-Sing-Se’s amazing. I can't believe--” 

“I’m worried about him.” 

The words spill out before she can stop them and she cuts her father off, only feeling a little guilty. It  _ is  _ his first time in the city. 

Hakoda gives a weary sigh and brushes a beaded strand of hair off his temple. Candle lamps hang overhead in the tea shop, their dim glow harshening the angles of his face and making him look too old for his years. “We all are. But Sokka needs time to heal from this.”

Sokka and Toph hadn’t even stopped to rest with them, insisting on starting the search for a nameless general with no other leads in a massive city he might not even be in. He’s being irresponsible and irrational and Katara has bitten her tongue long enough. 

“He won’t even say his name, dad! Every time I try to talk about him he shuts me down! I’ve tried to put up with it, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t miss Zuko too and it’s so much worse because everyone’s acting like he never existed!” Her voice trembles a little at the end and she feels Aang squeeze her knee. 

“I know. I know Zuko was important to you, he was to all of us, but Sokka doesn’t deal with things the way you might.” 

“He’s not dealing with things at all! He’s running away from his problems! Talking about Zuko would help!” She pauses and tries to compose herself when she realizes she’s almost yelling, hoping the look she gives Jin is apologetic enough. She takes another moment, looking down at where her hands have tensed around her teacup and then turning back towards her father.

She thinks of her mother who has been gone for more than half her life but still is ever present in every choice she makes and in every word she speaks. She tells so many people not just of her death but of  _ her.  _ The bright smiles and her warm laugh, the features she had that come through on her own face and of who she was as a whole. Aang, Toph, and many of her friends never met her, but they now carry her memory. 

And what of Zuko? His name will be in history books, but anyone who knew him knows that Firelord Zuko and  _ their _ Zuko are entirely separate. Documents of his political career won't help the fact that she's forgetting her friend.

“Talking about the person you loved keeps them alive.” 

“That’s just not how Sokka grieves, Katara. He still struggles to talk about Kya freely, and he didn’t love her any less than you and I did.” He says it almost defensively, and she knows she's struck a sore spot. Her father doesn't talk about his wife much either if she thinks about it.

Katara sucks in a harsh breath. “That is  _ not  _ what I meant.” 

Sokka loved Zuko as much as she loves Aang. And she _ knows  _ he loved their mother the same as her. Her stomach sinks with the memory of when she told him otherwise.

She also rapidly realizes that's is probably different losing a spouse, especially one taken away so suddenly.

“That’s not what I meant at all. I just can’t stand seeing him like this.”

Hakoda leans back, his expression apologetic. “I know, I’m sorry. I just don’t think he’s ready.” 

Katara has more to say, but she thinks back to her earlier conclusion and decides to drop it and opting for silence.

“Do you think he’ll find the general?” Aang pipes up, though he looks a bit hesitant to interrupt. 

It’s Katara’s turn to sigh, though she can sympathize with Sokka more on this. She still thinks he’s being reckless, but she does understand. She had been at her worst when Aang and Sokka tried to stop her from going after her mother’s killer and deny her the closure she had wished for for so many years. 

It’s not closure for Sokka, it’s  _ revenge.  _

This is what another side of Katara thinks, the side that had stopped her from stabbing an icicle through the Southern Raider’s heart. She had needed to understand what type of person could kill Kya. A  _ mother  _ who didn’t even try to defend herself and only wanted to save her child, who he could have spared and taken to the waterbender prisons instead of murdering her. And Katara got her answer; a pathetic, soulless person. 

He wasn’t worth killing. 

And neither is the general who took Zuko’s life. She  _ does  _ understand, but Sokka doesn’t need closure. He knows exactly what type of person would want to kill the Firelord. Ozai supporters, those victimized by the Fire Nation in the war or anyone hungry for power or chaos. And those people would always be around. She thinks that if he wants to protect Iroh he should be in the Fire Nation with him, not driving himself mad over the general. 

“I don’t know Aang, but if he does he  _ will  _ kill him.”

Aang blanches and his brow furrows. “The general dying won’t bring Zuko back. It’s- it’s not right. I think we should leave Ba-Sing-Se.” 

“I agree,” Katara says, looking to her father for his confirmation. “Yes, I think that’s for the best. I’ll meet with the city’s trade advisor while we’re here, but we can leave as soon as tomorrow night.” 

\---

“Do you think Aang’s okay with us taking Appa?” 

Toph asks the question in a gentle tone that’s so unlike her it makes him want to scream. He pulls down on a strap of Appa’s saddle hard, eliciting a displeased grumble from the bison. 

“Sorry, buddy.” He’s just so tired of everyone treating him like he needs to be coddled, especially Toph. He thought that at the very least she would act the same and he wouldn’t be reminded with every interaction that he's supposed to be a mess. 

He’s just not. There will be a time for crying, or  _ healing  _ as Katara says, but that can’t happen until the general who murdered Zuko is dead. 

“I don’t trust the maps here. I want to see if there's any backways or buildings not listed.” 

Toph leans against the stable door, seemingly unaffected by his obvious frustration. “Don’t you think I could sense more with my feet? There’s only so much you can see from the sky.” 

“That’s way too much ground to cover.”

“Not really. I mean we can rule out the Upper Ring; there's no way an ex- Fire Nation general could sneak his way into Ba-Sing-Se’s nobility. We can also only focus on refugee districts where Fire Nation features wouldn’t stand out. Those are all Lower Ring.”

Sokka doesn’t want to leave any stone uncovered, but what Toph proposes is a good start. “Appa would also attract a lot of attention.” 

Any criminals looking overhead would have seen the Avatar’s bison when they landed in the city initially, but for all they know the visit is strictly diplomatic. Having Appa patrol the city like a Hawk would probably suggest otherwise. 

Sokka curses himself. He’s been slipping up, missing details he would normally catch and at a time he can’t afford to. He remembers how ideas and plans would come so easy to him; on the day of the eclipse, on the airships, during all the years of work he did as ambassador, at Boiling Rock with Zuko. 

_ Zuko. _

He steadies himself. He has to do this. He _ will  _ do this. 

“Sokka?” 

He’s been silent for a while, so he can’t be too agitated at the careful hesitancy in her voice. 

“We can start by asking questions. I’ll do the talking and you signal if they’re lying or not.”

Sokka wants her to object. Toph doesn’t like to be in the background and he knows that any other time he would be met with resistance, but he can deal with that. He doesn’t know how to interact with this new Toph, who is quiet and outwardly calm and who--

Misses Zuko too. They all do. And he’s been so dismissive of them lately; he knows Katara and Aang worry and he can see the tiredness is his dad’s eyes every time he glances at Sokka. And he’s been ignoring the letters from Suki and Ty-Lee and even the one he got from  _ Mai _ , all left to deal with the fallout of the Firelord’s death back in the Fire Nation.

And he hasn’t gotten any word from Iroh. It's alarming when juxtaposed with the many tea-stained pages he used to write to Sokka that were almost as long as the ones he would send Zuko. He hadn’t even stayed long enough to greet Iroh before leaving. 

It’s for the best, he thinks. Even now he can feel his throat constricting and he swallows harshly. He cannot get caught up in his grief. He grabs his sword sheath from Appa’s saddle and swings it over his shoulder, walking past Toph and towards the monorail.

\---

“Have you seen a Fire Nation man in all black recently? Or someone addressed as general? Or any Fire Nation men new to town at all?”

The butcher raises an eyebrow, cleaning off his knife with a bloody rag. Earlier Sokka might have been less blunt, but the butcher is probably the thirtieth person they’ve questioned today. 

“No. There’s some Fire Nation folk living here, but their families all came here during the war. If you’re looking for newcomers I’d go to a neighborhood with less old people, son. Not much for tourists to do around here.” 

Sokka looks to Toph, she taps her finger once against her thigh, blind eyes never wavering from their spot behind the butcher’s head. 

_ Truth. _

They thank him and exit the butchery, the sun much lower in the sky than it had been when they started. They wordlessly decide to stop for the night and make their way back through the stone streets, passing all the places they had questioned people in before. 

He stops at a small shop they had been to earlier in the day, the mouthwatering smell attracting him more than the faded advertisements for various foods. He’s about to suggest they get dinner there when he sees a man walk out carrying two baskets of food that hold far too many servings for one person. 

There’s nothing inherently suspicious about that and the same goes for his unmistakably Fire Nation complexion, which is not uncommon in the city, but he flits his gaze around nervously before he dashes around the corner. Toph tugs his sleeve.

“He just went into an alleyway if that means anything.” 

_ That  _ is suspicious.

He waits for a beat before walking after him, whispering to Toph to stay behind. The man takes a few turns until he slips into an even thinner back street, one that’s dark and still damp from yesterday’s rain. He shifts the second basket onto his other side and grips it between his arm and torso while his hand still holds on to the other, bearing the weight awkwardly as he reaches for the second dewy rung of a small metal ladder that extends from the window sill of an apartment over his head. 

Sokka watches as he balances the baskets on the ledge before hoisting himself up, knocking on the glass pane twice before the latch clicks. He crawls inside and Sokka waits until he hears it lock again and then climbs up the ladder himself until his eyes are level with the window, ears straining to hear any conversation. 

_ “It’s still hot, thank you, Roh” _

The voice is muted, but Sokka can make it out well enough. 

_ “You’ve proven yourself useful over these last months. I assure you that you will be compensated for it greatly once we take out the Dragon.” _

Could that mean Iroh? He hasn’t heard anyone call him the Dragon of the West in years, but if he is listening to the general then it makes sense he would use his old military title. 

_ “And when will that be, Sir?” _

_ “We must be patient. The guards have doubled their ranks since the traitor was eliminated. But have no fear; the Dragon is much weaker than his brother and has let his grief overcome him. Have you heard about his failure in this very city? His son died and he became a pathetic shell of what he once was. I doubt he can do too much damage to Ozai’s legacy in his state.” _

It takes every shred of willpower Sokka has to hold himself still on the ledge. He found them. The men inside killed Zuko.

_ “And the princess?” _

_ “She’ll have to be dealt with as well. It’s a shame though. I feel her skill set would have been useful, but in her mental state who knows how our technique will work. Regardless, the Firelord will be sufficient.” _

_ “What do you plan to do with him exactly?” _

_ “Ah. Once the Dragon is dead it will all fall into place, you see--” _

Sokka moves his body upwards to see if he can catch a glimpse of their faces through the slits in the bamboo covering over the window. The ladder groans as he does and it clatters where it’s attached to the window when Sokka settles into his new position a split second after. He swears, already hearing movement in the apartment. 

He jumps down quickly and by the time his feet hit the floor the man from before, Roh, has his head out the window and his eyes on Sokka. He bolts, glancing back to see a figure in all black chasing after him. 

He makes a wrong turn at some point and suddenly he’s backed into a corner, the masked figure already pulling out dao blades and swinging. Black fabric covers his face except for his eyes which he can’t see in detail in only the light of the moon. Sokka readies his sword, blocking the figure’s attack with a sharp clang. 

So this is a combatant. He fights well, almost mechanically, not even flinching when Sokka nicks his arm. It's jarring, but despite that something about his fighting style is eerily familiar.

Maybe it’s the dao blades. It’s kind of sardonic when Sokka thinks about it; one of the few people he’s met other than his husband who uses them is part of the group who killed him. 

He strikes his weapon against the man’s left sword and it’s only then does Sokka see his automated movements falter. Just a slight hesitation, like he was caught off guard, before countering again. 

_ It’s like how Zuko fought.  _

Zuko, who had been blind and couldn’t hear as well on his scarred side and would have reacted the same way. Zuko, who had the same tall and slender stature as the combatant.

_ No. _

Zuko had moved his body in a more fluid way when he fought, Zuko’s dao swords had brown grips, not red.  _ Zuko was dead.  _

Sokka can’t think like that. This person isn’t Zuko, he helped kill him. 

But  _ if.  _

If he is he can’t hurt him. Sokka goes for his left again, swinging hard and knocking one of the blades out of the combatant’s hand. He uses the opening to push past him and out of the corner, running as fast as he can through the streets until he finds Toph where she was waiting for him. He grabs her arm and heads for the Jasmine Dragon.

\---

Sokka is panting by the time he enters the apartment above the tea shop, Toph in an only slightly better state behind him. While he was sprinting two things became clear; nothing about Zuko’s death made sense and because of that fact the combatant could very well be Zuko. If he was burned to death how is his necklace in Sokka’s pocket? If he was murdered, how did the killers even get in? 

“I think Zuko’s alive.” 

He’s expecting a  _ What?  _ but he only sees his sister’s face fall. “Oh, Sokka.”

Sokka looks around the room, they don’t look disbelieving, they just look  _ sad.  _

“I know it sounds crazy, but I found the general and I listened in on their conversation--which was also concerning-- and I got caught and this guy came after me, but he fought like Zuko. I’ve sparred with him hundreds of times and it was  _ so  _ similar, Katara--”

“Sokka, stop,” Katara says and she takes a shaky breath before speaking again. “Sokka, I can’t imagine how this must feel for you, but Zuko died. He’s not coming back.”

A rebuttal forms in his mind instantly, but he knows has to be intelligent about this. They already see him as fragile and reducing himself to a hallucinating widower would not help his  _ I'm fine act. _

He’s not going to win this, he wouldn’t believe it either if he hadn’t seen it himself. “Okay. Maybe--Maybe I was just looking for reasons for it to be true.” His voice quiets like he’s saying it to himself and not Katara. 

And that is a possibility. As hard as he’s trying to be logical about this he  _ wants  _ his husband to be alive. He wants that more than anything. 

“But I did find the General and he’s going after Iroh.” 

His dad and Katara share a look and Hakoda moves towards him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We’ll go after him tomorrow, but you need to rest.” 

He only nods, not wanting to be in the room any longer. Tomorrow he’ll find the general and he’ll avenge Zuko.

Even if it doesn’t bring him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The combatant and the Blue Spirit draw inspiration from Japanese ninjas, so if you're looking for a better idea of what the combatant's facial coverings look like I'd just look up a ninja :)


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very short chapter, the next one is super long and almost done :)

Toph lays on her mat, desperately willing herself to fall asleep. She knows she should prop her feet up but she’s not willing to sacrifice the security of being able to feel her friend’s heartbeats, all steady in their unconscious states. 

She goes through a list in her head, making sure everyone in their party is alive and breathing. She does this repeatedly until she almost drifts off, still checking each person’s vitals over and over.

Aang, Katara, Hakoda, and Sokka. Jin, faintly, in the apartment next door along with her family. 

Aang, Katara, Hakoda and Sokka. 

Aang, Katara, Hakoda and Sokka. 

Aang, Katara, Hakoda and Sokka and sparky.

Her unseeing eyes shoot open. He’s farther away, but she recognizes him instantly. After Azula shot him up with lightning his heart always thumped a bit erratically, spiking every couple of beats and making it especially distinctive. 

Aside from the panic of hearing the supposed heartbeat of her dead friend, she’s also alarmed that someone has entered the tea shop at past midnight and is rapidly ascending up the stairs. 

“ _ Katara,  _ ” She hisses while she shakes the woman next to her awake “there’s someone coming.” 

At that moment the intruder enters with two unsheathed swords already swinging and promptly wakes everyone up. Toph doesn’t have much to work with besides the stone floor of Jin’s source of income so she resides awkwardly in the corner while the others grab their weapons and waterskins. 

It’s an odd fight in such a confined space, Sokka’s boomerang and Katara’s small amount of water are pretty much useless and she doubts Aang would be willing to blast a hole in the wall unless he really had to. Still, it’s four on one and their attacker must be some sort of idiot for making an entrance like that when he could’ve caught them sleeping. 

For all his stupidity, he seems to be an excellent fighter. It takes quite a while for Hakoda to get his spear under his chin. 

“Don’t hurt him!”

Sokka, who had barely thrown one punch during the altercation suddenly yells, and it’s a good thing because the man hadn’t shown any signs of stopping and probably would have sliced his own jugular open without Hakoda lifting another finger.

Sokka’s father shifts the spear so the wooden staff is against his neck and not the sharpened bone, giving Katara the opportunity to freeze his hands and feet in place against the wall. 

The attacker protests viciously and thrashes in his bonds while they remove his swords from his clenched hands, slamming his body back and forth in what looks like an incredibly painful attempt at escape. 

“Who are you?” Aang demands.

The figure doesn’t even register his words, giving no reaction except for his continuous struggle against the ice. 

\---

His dad and Aang share a look before the former nods and removes his spear from the combatant’s neck. It’s the same man from yesterday, probably trying to finish the job on killing Sokka for what he overheard. 

_ This man is not Zuko  _ . 

If his family asks Sokka intervened for the sake that he could be valuable for information on the general and not because he thinks his dead husband is trying to murder them in the middle of the night. In fact, it would make a lot of sense if he was a part of Zuko’s death.

After they question him, Sokka will slit his throat himself.

It takes a few seconds because the combatant is whipping his body about and  _ banging  _ his head on the wall in the process, but Hakoda manages to slip the hood and the fabric over his mouth off in one motion.

The room goes dead quiet. 

“Zuko?” 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note- the idea of Zuko having an arrhythmia comes from Your Own Funeral by Tyranno.
> 
> read it here 


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this out sooner so I split in half and bumped up the chapter count :)

Zuko’s good eye is wide and unfocused as it darts across the room, never landing on a specific point for more than a second. His chest heaves and he shows no signs of stopping his violent attempts at fleeing from the dim lit room.

Besides the fact that he was trying to kill everyone not five minutes before, Aang can immediately tell something is  _ wrong  _ with him. Zuko could have melted the ice with his bending or spewed fire from his mouth, but he hasn’t even attempted to exhaust either of those methods. Still, he looks like an animal backed into a corner with his bared teeth and feral expression, trapped with no options left. 

“Zuko?” He asks, his own voice sounding far away. 

There is no response, not even a single twitch in Zuko’s behavior to indicate he was heard. He looks to the others for guidance but only sees varying degrees of shock and horror plastered on their faces. 

“It’s him?” Toph's words break the silence with an uncharacteristic tremble.

“Yeah.”

It's Zuko. Zuko, whose funeral he attended months ago.  _ There was no body to burn. _

Sokka’s sword slips from his hand and hits the floor with a sharp clatter. He makes a choked noise and lets his arm hang limp by his side as he curls in on himself, backing away from Zuko with his other hand grasping the chain he keeps their rings on. 

Katara regards her brother carefully from the offensive stance she's frozen in, then sets her jaw and turns towards Zuko, immediately relaxing aholding her palms up in a placating maneuver. 

“Zuko, we’re not going to hurt you. It’s me, Katara.” 

He continues thrashing against the ice bonds. “Can you understand me?” 

She moves forward hesitantly which only causes him to become even more hysterical in retaliation, accidentally slamming his skull back onto the stone hard enough that it knocks him out cold. He sags against the wall, head lolling onto his shoulder.

Now that he’s motionless it is easy to see damage. His already sharp features now look skeletal; his eyes sunken in and his cheeks hollow with the unscarred side of his face being an array of mottled black and blue. Aang has little hope that it's any different under his black garments.

Katara melts the ice and Zuko falls limp in Hakoda’s arms before he can move his weight to slump against the wall. The chief looks the least composed Aang’s ever seen him, his hands trembling as they leave Zuko’s shoulders once he’s stable.

“ _ Spirits _ , what do we do?” 

No one has an answer. Normally they’d refer to Sokka, but he looks so far away, eyes trained on the ground next to his husband’s feet. 

"We have to leave. Those men that Sokka listened in on weren't far from here and it won’t be long before they’ve noticed something is wrong.”

“Toph’s right. We can figure out the rest later, but we have to get Zuko out of the city.” 

Aang takes another look at his friend, thinking the question on all of their minds. 

_ What happened to you, Zuko? _

\---

After writing a note to Jin with some feeble excuse to explain their sudden departure, the group splits up. Aang and Katara on Appa and the rest of them on foot in an attempt to deter the general and his men of their whereabouts if they happened to be already on the hunt for them. 

Sokka can’t even look at him. His father was the one who carried him through the streets and hoisted him up onto the saddle once they recouped and even after the initial chaos settled he still couldn’t bring himself to spare a glance in his direction. 

He’s terrified. 

Zuko was dead. There was nothing Sokka could do to save him or shield him from harm at that point, but now he's  _ not  _ dead and he hasn't got a clue on how he’s supposed to go about this. His husband is sickly thin and battered and  _ homicidal  _ and something truly terrible must have happened to him because he would never leave Sokka like that, much less try to bring him or any of their friends harm. 

He finally shifts his gaze to Zuko’s frame, whose hands are bound in front of him with metal cuffs, courtesy of Toph. No one had wanted to restrain him but there wasn’t any protest either and Sokka has no idea how to feel about it. It’s not like  _ he _ said anything, but it makes him sick that they're treating Zuko like an enemy. Years ago, at the North Pole, he had wanted to dump the rope-bound Zuko into the snow and leave him to rot, but he had resigned to bitterly glaring at his unconscious form. 

Now, all he wants to do is see his love's eyes open with full clarity and to see his little half-smile form as he offers a simple explanation for all of this. 

He doesn’t stir. 

He doesn't move a muscle even when they land in a slightly wooded area far enough from the walled city, or when they settle and Katara’s cool water comes to rest on his skin as she probes him. 

Toph stomps her foot, causing the earth to bind itself with Zuko’s cuffed wrists. It’s a bit awkward with him on his side, but it gives Katara access to his head wound which is currently glowing a bright blue as she heals it. 

“Somethings not right. His chi is all off, I- I think it’s messing with his bending.” 

“Doesn’t that wear off quickly?” Aang asks with a furrowed brow. 

Katara shakes her head. He can see from the frown on her lips and the set of her shoulders that she’s frustrated. “No. It’s not like what Ty-Lee and the warriors do; it’s stronger and concentrated in his head,” She takes a deep, shaky breath, “it’s almost like how Jet was after the Dai Li messed him up.”

The Dai Li were disbanded soon after the war but what his sister suggests isn't entirely out of the realm of possibility. He can’t think of an explanation for the way Zuko was acting except for that he must have been manipulated into it either by torture or  _ brainwashing _ . As grim as the latter is; he desperately hopes that it’s the case. That this is something that Zuko can snap out of and not genuine psychological damage. 

As if on cue, Zuko whimpers and his face contorts for a moment before jolting awake. Katara is thrown back immediately, the water falling out of her control and down Zuko’s clothed back. 

If he had looked panicked earlier, he looks  _ insane  _ now. Every limb whips about erratically and he’s got the same savage glint to his glassy eyes as he looks straight past Sokka. He moves to his feet now in a stiff crouch, ferociously tugging on his cuffs. Like before, he freaks out even more if Katara moves even the slightest bit closer to him. 

Suddenly, Zuko stops. It’s only for a second that he stops struggling as he stares at the earth mound prohibiting his escape, but all the hope Sokka has been carefully shoving down takes the opportunity to present itself front and center in his mind. 

He imagines something more a  _ bit  _ more realistic this time; Zuko shaking himself out of it, telling Sokka what he needs to do and who he needs to kill to make this all go away, and then falling into Sokka’s embrace where he so desperately wants him.

Instead, he moves his knee and presses it flat on his wrist, twisting his body rightwards in a quick, harsh motion.

It takes the snap for him to realize what had just happened. He feels ill.

Zuko just broke his own arm and didn’t even  _ flinch _ and is already trying to yank it out of the cuff with the newfound leverage the fracture gave him. 

Toph steps in, slamming her fist into his cheekbone with enough force to render him unconscious for a second time.

_ It was necessary. _ He tells himself, though he never gets the chance to be properly angry with her because her next actions are incredibly tender, even without the juxtaposition from the punch.

She squats down to his level and lets his head roll onto her shoulder, placing a gentle hand on the back of his neck. 

“Stupid sparky.” 

\---

After setting and healing some of the arm that Zuko  _ broke _ , Katara is dead tired. Today was horrifying, to say the least, and she has to turn away from where Zuko lays on the ground in Toph’s new and more restricting restraints while she eats.

Around the campfire, hardly anyone touches their food, the silence a tangible thing. She desperately wants to make this better, to wipe the stricken look off her family’s faces, but she was never one for exceptionally brilliant ideas. Unlike her brother. 

“If it’s like what the Dai Li did to Jet, do you think there's a code word or a phrase that would make him go back to normal? Sokka, when you were listening to the general did you--” 

As his name leaves her lips Sokka caves in on himself and hides his face in his hands with a trembling sigh. Briefly, she thinks it’s a reaction to the stress of it all but the strangled cry that rings out into the night air quickly corrects her. 

“Oh, Sokka.” 

He hasn’t cried since they left Caldera, or at least not openly. She hasn't seen him like  _ this _ in years. He breaks now, full broken sobs that make her heart break for him all over again rip from his throat. 

" _ I thought he died _ ."

They let him weep, offering soft reassurances and touches but trying not to overwhelm him either. After a long while he calms some, but the tears don't stop streaming down his face long into the night. She thinks she sees one fall on Zuko's cheek when he kneels down to press a kiss on his temple. 

\---

He can't recall his own name. He doesn't know if he has one and he doesn't care; all that matters is the now. His task.

_ Kill or escape. _

_ Kill or escape. _

_ Kill or escape. _

_ Kill or escape. _

A new word interrupts the mantra and he thinks he feels something on his forehead in the place between sleep and wake.

_ Sokka. _

_ Kill or escape. _

**Author's Note:**

> I live for comments so any would be much appreciated :)


End file.
